Even fucking Odin recognizes Loki’s being genderfluid:
(Yea I know; Odin’s language is rather binary, but I’ll take my victories where I can get them.)
Loki’s also canon bi btw. Well I mean they don’t quite understand the need to label themself, but yea:
Basically they are one of my faves and I’m really glad that they are more or less one of the good guys since their reincarnation, even being on the Young Avengers team! (Also their being genderfluid and bi has been more explored since becoming more a of a good guy, so it’s not the whole queer coding villains thing either!)
just gonna add in my personal fandom grandma opinion to THIS post
this new interest that showrunners have in engaging fans and “supporting” and endorsing fanworks is actually really insidious
because it diverts fan attention towards canon and canonical authority
it keeps fans watching and hoping and advocating for their ships to be canon
instead of generating creative and expansive fanworks.
think about the decline in fanworks for “crack ships” and rarepairs
think about how many people won’t produce content for ships that have no chance of becoming “canon”
because we - especially queer and/or woc fans - are being baited and led on by showrunners, so that we’re focusing our fanworks and fan efforts on canon rather than on subverting and expanding canon to include new and exciting possibilities.
meanwhile showrunners will queerbait and shipbait like no tomorrow, show up at comic con, laugh about shipping and fandom in a supposed show of support, but go home with their bank accounts growing and canon hegemony - read white, straight hegemony - intact.
it also makes for less exciting and rewarding fandom
because we’re focused on canon - which will ultimately never reward or satisfy any of our efforts - instead of on our creative potential.
this new shift in showrunners interacting with fan culture isn’t about valuing or rewarding fan efforts.
showrunners and writers realized that trying to eradicate fandom spaces was a wasted effort. and so they co-opted them/us instead.
I Thought We Already Weren’t PART 4 (Peter Parker x Reader Angst)
Request: anonymous asked: Ooh I love angst!! Can you do something where the reader has a huge crush on peter but he likes Liz and he asks her out on date and he asks the reader for help with everything so she basically plans the whole thing for him and he keeps saying things like “wow ur such a good friend” and out of jealousy she asks Flash on a date and they start to go out and Peter says he’s not good enough for her and they get into a huge argument and deicde it’s better if they stop being friends…
Word Count: 2,309
Warnings: angst, fluff (omg what?!)
A/N: SO GUYS holy shit this series-that-wasn’t-supposed-to-be-a-series-but-ended-up-being-one-of-the-best-things-i’ve-ever-written has been so mind blowing in where it’s taken me as a writer and how many people i realized actually like it like holy shit?!?!?!? THANK YOU to everyone who’s sent me their WONDERFUL feedback on this series and to whoever’s liked it, reblogged it, asked to be tagged, it just shows me how much you guys love it and that is one of the best things i could ever ask for!! ❤️❤️
i hope you guys enjoy this last part and the fluff (you’ve earned it i’ve put you guys through enough angst for now :} ❤️)
You stood frozen, hand still hanging onto the raised window. Your mind was racing but going nowhere; you had so many thoughts and reactions running through it, yet nothing would come out. Jesus, (Y/N)! Say something!
Peter’s head was downcast at his hands as they fiddled with his mask. You had a flashback to the last time he was here and did that. The air now had the same uncertainty as it did then; there was just as much of a chance of tonight ending just like that night did. Wasn’t there? Well maybe not, actually. You both didn’t have much left to lose at this point. Nonetheless, you still felt like you were stepping on cracking glass. You were afraid that anything that came out of your mouth, any movement you made, any emotion you showed, could quite possibly send him flying off the fire escape.
“Um, can I—can we—can I… come in? I mean—if—if not that’s, that’s totally cool too…” he asked cautiously.
“Uhhh, no, yeah… yeah,” you dazedly stepped backwards.
As he crawled through the small opening, you tried to think of what to say. You couldn’t just leave this awkward silence sitting, but you also had absolutely no idea what to do. What do you say to start a conversation with your old-best-friend-who-you-haven’t-spoken-to-in-forever-but-also-harbored-a-humongous-crush-on-and-low-key-still-do-but-you’re-not-gonna-bring-that-up-right-not-because-that’s-just-gonna-add-to-the-awkwardness.
Peter nodded to your open bedroom door, “They home?”
You shook your head, “Meetings.”
You both stood there, stiff, looking everywhere except at each other. Eye contact would mean having to say something. But what do I say?! you thought. Ask how he’s doing? How’s Spiderman-ing been going? Is he okay? Is that okay to ask? Would that remind him of Liz? Is it even okay to mention her? Probably not. Not mentioning is safe, let’s stick with that. God, I feel so frickin bad, but would immediately saying ‘sorry’ too upfront? Too soon? Well it can’t be ‘too soon’ I mean, it’s been like what two months? Holy shit, two months. Two months without this knucklehead. This pure and blissfully ignorant knucklehead. I missed this knucklehead. No oh God no don’t say that, that’s waaaaaayyyy too upfront. Shit, say something, dammit!
Afraid that the long silence was skyrocketing the tension, you blurted a quiet, “I’m sorry.”
Peter’s eyes raised to peer at you through his sagging curls. “For what?” he gingerly asked.
“For… uh… what, um… for what happened. With Liz.”
Peter’s expression was unreadable. “It’s not your fault.” But you knew it partially was. Indirectly, it was kind of your fault.
“I’m still sorry, though, I mean… I can’t imagine what that must be like, or what—”
“Yeah you can.”
“What?” you blinked. “How can I—”
“Know what it’s like to walk away from someone you care about because you know it’ll make them happier in the end? You know all about that.” Peter still wouldn’t meet your eyes. His head remained downcast at the ground, his arms crossed as if he was trying to shield himself from your response.
How did he know? How could he know? Did Ned tell him? Ned wouldn’t have told him. Well, he does crack very easily under very little pressure… But he wouldn’t ever tell anyone about this…
“I—” you faltered.
The tense silence grew louder. No one knew what to say. Peter was afraid he had gone too far too soon, crossed a line. You were afraid that whatever you responded with would scare him back out the window forever. It was so hard, too, to choose what to say. So many options and thoughts and emotions and confessions filled your mind to the brim, threatening to spill at any moment. You couldn’t let everything go right now; that would definitely drive him away for good. Choose something, choose something you panicked.
You were dying. You hadn’t really confessed everything to Ned that day. You had just told him that you liked Peter, not the million reasons why. Not the real reason you went out with Flash. Not the real reason you were still avoiding Peter, even after his breakup. All those reasons were bottled up inside, but the pressure between you two was enough to push it all out.
You inhaled a shaky breath, “I’m sorry because… I was… stupid. I was stupid to date Flash, I was stupid to let my stupid shit feelings affect my better judgement, I was stupid to not tell you or anyone, really, everything. Mainly you, ‘cause I’m not gonna tell just anybody this shit but still I shouldn’t have let all this sit inside of me for so long.
“I was stupid because I thought I could be mature and handle this like an adult and not end up like some cliche teenage girl you see in those coming-of-age shit-shows. I thought I wouldn’t feel jealous but I did, but I didn’t want to be selfish, so I helped you. I helped you because I knew how important it was and how happy and excited you were for it, and I was happy too! I was happy for you, I really was! But I was also jealous which was stupid.
“I knew I shouldn’t be jealous but I still was, so I tried to just shove it down and let it go away overtime but it didn’t and I didn’t know what to do ‘cause it just kept getting worse and worse and worse and worse! And I didn’t want to take it out on you, because that would be stupid, but one day I did want to, so one day I did take it out on you and that day was—”
“Why you asked out Flash…” Peter interjected. You startled, looking up at him. His eyes were focused on your chair, but distant.
“Yeah,” you breathed. “And that was so so so stupid of me, it was so petty and immature and stupid and so not me, and I was a dumbass just because I was stupid jealous. I knew it would piss you off and some stupid part of me wanted you to feel the shit that I was feeling, and I knew dating Flash would do that and I’m so sorry I did that and made you feel shitty. You didn’t deserve it; it was stupid and selfish and I know we weren’t like ‘friends’ anymore but I think we still kinda were but I was a really shitty ‘kinda-sorta-friend’ and… I’m sorry for that.”
Rocking back and forth on your feet, you wrung your hands together, anxiously studying those sad brown orbs, waiting for some kind of reaction. Every second felt like a year. You silently begged for him to say something, say anything. Just please, please, please oh God, please don’t leave. That would probably kill you.
Peter sighed, “I’m sorry, too.” For the first time that night, his eyes locked onto yours. Your breath stopped, as did your heart. “I’m sorry I was stupid too. I’m sorry that I blew you guys off so much, that I never replied when you guys called or texted, and for being an all around shitty friend. I’m sorry I accused you of being jealous ‘cause that was just mean and stupid of me—”
“But I mean you weren’t wrong—”
“Still! I… I had no right to! And I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you tried to tell me all of that, about blowing you guys off… I guess I was just so caught up in finally getting to be with Liz, you know? And then I was all confused and shit and then… and then she—we… we… you know…
“And also I’m sorry I avoided you after that. I shouldn’t have but it felt weird and I didn’t want Liz feeling so hurt if I, like, immediately went to you after, even if it was just to talk, it felt weird and I was confused and I felt really bad and guilty and shitty. Like for the first few days I felt really, really bad. But then after that I was just more confused. Like I didn’t know what I wanted or what to do or how to do anything…? I didn’t know if you wanted to start talking again or what to talk about and stuff…”
“And,” quickly, Peter glanced down, took a deep breath, and looked back at you, straight in your eyes. “I’m sorry I was so stupid about… you…”
Your heart must’ve started beating again sometime during Peter’s confession, because you definitely felt it stop yet again. You felt your eyes fill with both hope and uncertainty, as you saw the same things swell in Peter’s.
“I’m sorry I didn’t realize or notice sooner.” He chuckled and muttered, “God, I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry I was so focused on… not… I mean, I think a small part of me knew, but I just didn’t want to believe it ‘cause I didn’t think you would ever feel that way about me… And I didn’t want to get my hopes up, too.” You realized your hands were shaking slightly, your blood rushing significantly faster through your veins. Everything felt jittery, as if you had just downed fifteen cups of espresso.
“I think,” he continued, “I only really realized it was when we stopped hanging out. I was too stupid to realize what was right in front of me, the whole damn time.” He breathed a small chuckle, “I was too stupid to realize how mellow you got when you were helping me plan a date with some other girl, or how you would always tuck that one little hair behind your ear, which you only did whenever you were uncomfortable, whenever I started gushing about Liz. Or how much I missed our group movie sessions, and our stupid puns, and you laughing and cringing at those stupid puns, and… and…” his voice dropped so such a quiet murmur. “…basically, you.” Peter looked at you with such sincerity that you felt your lips quivering into a grin as small as his voice. “I missed you, (Y/N). And I’m sorry I didn’t realize that sooner.”
“I missed you too, Peter,” you breathed. A warmth welled up in your chest, growing up through your body, threatening to exit in an emotionally-overwhelming cry. Is this what love feels like? Is this even love? Does it qualify? you wondered. Whatever. You didn’t care what it was. Whatever it was called didn’t matter; all that did was that you were 100% sure that Peter felt it too.
Before this feeling could burst out in a most embarrassing way, you closed the gap between you two, and squeezed your arms around his ribs. Peter hugged you back, as strongly as he did that night two months ago, but a new energy surged from it; the warmth you both harbored released itself in your embrace.
You stood there for what could have easily been forever. Breathing in each other’s calming scent, both anxious and afraid of what would happen if one let go.
A new urge rooted in you. You were sure now; remembering what he just confessed, you took advantage of the confidence and hope growing with your every heartbeat. You pick your head up from his shoulder and tilted it back, just enough to look at his face.
As he tilted his head ever so slightly, you took in the soft shadows cast underneath his cheekbones, gentle glow in his hair, the faint freckles dotting the crooked bridge of his nose, the inquisitive and nervous way he gazed at you, the rosy tint in his lips.
Fuck it you thought, before you could overthink this anymore. You lightly tugged Peter’s torso closer as you leaned in. As your lips connected, your eyes softly shut. You both stayed stiff like this, neither sure of what to do. For a blissful fleeting moment, you tasted salty and sweet, a squeal caught in your throat, and the urge you had, dropped to your stomach. You gingerly pulled away, not wanting to push your luck or confidence any further, and peaked through eyelids opening unsurely. His own eyes fluttered open, and he couldn’t help the grin that was spreading ear to ear. You exhaled a nervous and excited giggle, feeling your own lips spreading, cheeks radiating ecstasy.
Holy shit holy shit holy fucking SHIT. Kiss. We just kissed. Holy. Shit.
Peter enveloped his arms around your waist and gently pulled you closer. His eyes shut again, as his forehead nuzzled against your own. You echoed his actions, feeling his warm breath fanning your face, his cold nose brushing yours. Suddenly, you felt his lips again, this time moving carefully but eagerly. Your breath caught deep in your lungs as your lips followed his. You tried to hold it for as long as you could, but eventually you regrettably ran out of air. Your head tilted, leaving room for you to breathe, yet still leaving your forehead touching Peter’s.
You glanced up through your eyelashes, seeing that grin that mirrored yours, plastered on his face. His breaths tickled your warm cheeks.
“So,” he breathed.
You chuckled, “So…”
“Yeah…” you bit your lip to try to stop that ever growing smile from hurting your cheeks anymore.
Peter’s eyebrows scrunched together just a little, “Um…”
“Hm?” your smile fell.
“Does that mean we’re good now? Like, finally? All good?”
The corners of your mouth turned up, and you could feel your eyes smiling wider than your lips ever had. “I thought we already were.”
“He was all I had once, before Myrcella was born. I used to spend hours looking at him. His wisps of hair. His tiny hands and feet. He was such a jolly little fellow. You always hear the terrible ones were terrible babies. “We should have known. Even then, we should have known.” It’s nonsense. Whenever he was with me, he was happy. And no one can take that away from me. Not even Joffrey.”